


a game with no rules

by AutumnOcean



Category: Cheers (TV)
Genre: Drunk and Disorderly, M/M, although you don't necessarily need to have read that one to enjoy this, gross old men make out, sequel to four sheets to the wind, slight period specific homophobia, thank quarantine for this lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:02:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28618497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutumnOcean/pseuds/AutumnOcean
Summary: It was interesting, Norm noted, that this was the fifth year they had done this. This game, this ritual of drinking themselves silly (or sillier than normal, anyway) before Christmas had gone on for five damn years. Not the same date on the calendar, nor the same amount of beers, but the same idea.Five was a nice, round number, wasn’t it?(AKA the sequel to Four Sheets To The Wind that literally nobody asked for, written in a single 1.5 hour session on the couch while in quarantine)
Relationships: Cliff Clavin/Norm Peterson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	a game with no rules

**Author's Note:**

> heya! if you're here and reading this, thanks for being even mildly interested in this pairing lmao. it usually feels like it's just me here, which is fine! but it's nice to have support. unlike the first story, i wanted to add some more antagonistic vibes to this. in canon they get on each other's nerves because they're both annoying as fuck lmao. i haven't seen full eps of cheers in close to 2 years so if i got something about the bar wrong, forgive me! and i'm terrible at writing her but i love love love diane. but other than that i played fast and loose with canon, as vera and norm's marriage is rarely shown as happy. and unlike FSTTW i mostly wrote in norm's pov which presented an interesting challenge. enjoy!

It was interesting, Norm noted, that this was the fifth year they had done this. This game, this ritual of drinking themselves silly (or sillier than normal, anyway) before Christmas had gone on for five damn years. Not the same date on the calendar, nor the same amount of beers, but the same idea.

Five was a nice, round number, wasn’t it?

It was 1984. Bruce Springsteen ruled the airwaves. Ghostbusters was one of the highest grossing films of the year. Diane, already accustomed to much tomfoolery in her workplace, simply placed a tray with 6 frothy steins of beer onto the floor and left, but not before shooting both of them a knowing look before disappearing down the corridor. She was Diane Chambers, after all.

That was two hours ago though. Currently, Cliff was to his right,

_same as last year_

Ranting about how Kennedy had been a Commie,

_same as last year_

And giving him a headache with every convoluted sentence.

_same as always_

This was thoroughly boring. He could listen to Cliff’s political theories after Christmas. Right now, he wanted something interesting. There was a reason he was slumped against a scratched up pool table on December 23rd, his wristwatch ticking closer and closer to midnight. He hoped he could start a game that would go on all night, or until one of them blacked out. He couldn’t go home to Vera’s disappointment, her dissatisfaction, her pointless little sighs as she pointed out that she was alone at home every night, waiting up for him.

Norm wasn’t a stupid man. He wasn’t unobservant, either. Whatever passion and love they may have started with in high school was more dead than the former president that Cliff was going on about. But what the hell was he supposed to do about that?

“Cliffie.”

Cliff blinked, then his face creased with exasperation. “You interrupted me.”

Norm snorted. “You noticed. I’m surprised you can hear anyone else over your droning.”

He felt the lukewarm stein of beer that had been resting against his side yanked away.

“Hey!” Norm exclaimed, but Cliff was already chugging Norm’s last beer, angrily working the amber liquid down his throat. He finished and slammed the stein onto the floor, then clumsily slid it across the floor. The glass hit a bump in the hardwood and tipped over. The sound of the glass breaking, a spiderweb crack spreading across its bottom, echoed in the empty pool room like a gunshot. 

Norm turned his head. Cliff appeared surprised, but not as scared as he should’ve been. His mustache was covered in a layer of beer foam. Good god. What an idiot.

“You’re a jackass. You know Carla’s gonna make you pay for that.”

Cliff huffed. “Not if you don’t tell her. Besides, you’re the jackass who interrupted me-”

“I’ve heard this Kennedy rant 10 times! For god’s sake!” Norm snatched the beer stein next to Cliff and, against Cliff’s objection’s, repeated the other man’s actions, emptying the glass in mere seconds. He attempted to place the glass carefully onto the floor, but his hand was shaky, clumsy. The glass wobbled and fell on its side, rolling for a second, then stopping. Norm examined the glass blearily. Finding no evidence of damage, he smirked lazily at Cliff.

“Shut up,” Cliff muttered.

“I didn’t say anything,” Norm replied smugly. “Now can we PLEASE talk about something e-”

“How’s your wife that you never see?” Cliff interrupted. 

_Too far,_ Norm thought, although he wasn’t surprised. Cliff always got pissy when he was reminded that he was repeating himself. Still though, his beer soaked brain was starting to have trouble articulating comebacks. Maybe he shouldn’t have chugged that beer. Jesus.

“Normie,” Cliff murmured, cutting through his mental fog. “Normie, hey, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“Women.. Can’t live with them -” Norm cut himself off with a hiccup and didn’t finish the sentence. Cliff nodded, appearing chastened.

_Good. His guard was down. Here’s one for you, Cliffie._

“When Diane said there were gay people in the bar, do you think she was talking about you?” Norm snapped.

 _Oh shit._ Even he was surprised by that one. Seeing Cliff’s eyebrows raised to his hairline, he plowed forward nevertheless. “I mean you love your mom, a little _too_ much I think, and you’re never seen with any w-”

“Norman.” Cliff moved forward, talking at a near whisper. “And I’m using your full name since you’re starting to tick me off. Who was it that slipped me the tongue in this very pool room last year? Who was it?”

“I won though, didn’t I?” Norm shot back in his own near whisper. “Threw you for a damn loop.”

“We agreed that it was a draw.”

“Then I guess we’ll have to play again.” Norm shifted, his movements slow, his bones feeling like water. He felt that if someone wrung him out like a sponge, all that would spill out was beer. Still, he was never one to turn down a challenge regarding making out. He might be a little long in the tooth, but he could still kiss as well as the next guy. Even if he didn’t practice much anymore. Even if he didn’t feel like he wanted to kiss V-

 _Don’t go there,_ his brain warned, and he backed off.

“First person to make a noise that isn’t breathing, loses.” Cliff declared, and Norm titled his head, considering the idea. Eventually, he nodded.

“Shake on it?” Norm suggested.

“Sure. That makes it a gentleman’s agreement.” Cliff stuck out his hand, and Norm gingerly took it. Grinning, Cliff firmly clasped his hand and yanked Norm forward, smashing their lips together.

 _Damn,_ Norm thought. _The element of surprise. He’s already one upped me._

His head was swimming, and Norm was wondering if Cliff had actually practiced since last year. The other man’s lips were firm, yet pliant, drawing him in and yet never letting him dominate the kiss. _What the fuck?_ Norm slid forward, bringing his hand to Cliff’s waist. Not grabbing, just… touching. He felt Cliff tense, then relax into the touch. Damn. He thought that would’ve won him the game.

 _Tongue,_ Norm suddenly remembered, then moved his other hand to Cliff’s waist as he slowly slipped his tongue into Cliff’s mouth. _There we go. That’ll do it._

It had been a year, but Norm knew that that was his most reliable trick with anybody. He met Cliff’s tongue with his own and was gentle, soft, exploratory. He felt a soft hum from Cliff in response, but readily ignored it. That wasn’t enough of a victory.

They were on a fairly level playing field, Norm decided, as he felt Cliff’s hands land on his own waist. Cliff squeezed his love handles, just once, causing Norm to nearly bite down on both of their tongues. _So that was how it was going to be? Okay, time to play dirty._

Without thinking any further about the implications of such an action, Norm jerked his right hand from Cliff’s waist and firmly placed it on Cliff’s inner thigh, drawing a tiny circle in his postal uniform pants fabric with his thumb.

Norm heard rather than felt himself being shoved back by the chest, cold air blasting into the space between them. 

“Oof.” Norm muttered. The pool room’s hardwood floor was not particularly forgiving. He was in his forties, after all.

“Dammit, Norm!” Cliff exclaimed. Norm raised his head to see Cliff staring at him with wide, shocked eyes. He was breathing hard, and his hand was on the thigh that Norm had just touched, self consciously smoothing out the fabric. “That wasn’t fair.”

“How fair can you be in a game with no rules, Cliffie?” Norm pointed out, wheezing slightly as he said it. He slowly sat up, scratching his now throbbing head. “I still won.”

Cliff started to object, then, a look of realization appeared on his face. 

“What?” Norm demanded. “What can you possibly be-”

“I’ve gotta go. Goodnight, Normie.” Cliff wobbled to his feet and, without preamble, stumbled down the corridor out of the pool room.

Norm’s tongue felt glued to the floor of his mouth. _Goodnight,_ he thought. _Although I’m not sure what I did._

_________________________________________________

“Do you need me to call a taxi, Clifford?”

Cliff blinked. Diane was in front of him, a worried frown creasing her beautiful face. She always cared so much.

“Nah, Diane, I-” Cliff stuck his hands into his pockets. “I think I’m gonna walk home.”

Diane softened. “Alright, if you’re sure. Goodnight, Clifford.”

Cliff glanced around. The once bustling bar was now empty, the chairs on top of the tables, the Christmas lights unplugged. Diane was probably waiting for him to leave so she could lock up.

“‘Night,” he managed, and shuffled out of the door.

He trundled up the stairway to the street, head swimming. Apropos of nothing, it occurred to him that in their years of drowning their sorrows during the holidays, neither of them had left the scene before. Cliff glanced up at the streetlight, making sure he was going the right direction, and kept walking.

Snow crunched under his feet, and the streetlights were blurry in his drunken gaze. He kept turning the last hour over in his head. Why would Norm go that far? He was married, for god’s sake. Nobody could say the marriage was hot and heavy, but it was still-

_Shit._

Cliff stopped and sank down into a pile of snow, uncaring of the icy sensation that shot up his legs as the snow slid up his pant legs. He had thought of it, earlier, as he was fleeing the scene of the crime. He wasn’t sure he was ready to believe it, but there couldn’t be any other explanation, could there?

 _This was becoming a pattern,_ he thought. _Eventually, we’re gonna do this stone cold sober. And then what?_

That was too much thinking already, and too much honesty for one night. It was December 23rd. Time to go home to Ma and eggnog and horrible old Christmas carol records from the 50s on the turntable.

With that thought, Cliff shakily rose to a stand. He brushed off his pants, turned to the left, and continued walking home.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! drop a kudos or review if you liked, please, they help my ego! xoxo


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